Illegitimate
by Troplet
Summary: The Liars are back in Rosewood, five years after the pivotal moment that Charlotte was revealed as A. Alison DiLaurentis, is notoriously known for her carefully constructed words, the queen bee, the girl who quite literally returned from the dead, is now a person whose passion can't be tamed. She has her sights on her happy ending, at the end of a tunnel of misery. Who? Rosie.


It's amazing how a place can hold so many memories and pivotal moments. A typical person, who thought back to their high school days wore bitter-sweet smiles as they recalled old crushes, friends, bullies and the amount of stress work caused.

Even if it was the worst time of the average person's life, like being pushed into bins or slapped around a little, nothing could compare to the nightmares that alienated the lighter times, when Rosewood came to my mind.

Of course, comparing who had it worse, dismisses another person's feelings. Still, it was hard not to roll your eyes when they complained of harsh teachers who gave them detention for chewing gum.

A letter arrived to my place a week prior, and well, it was hard not to let a play by play of everything considered torturous in my life run through my mind. It was like someone wanted to catch this moment in my life too.

 _Dear Rosie,_

 _There isn't much time, but I wanted you to see these words on paper and not on a screen. I wanted to know you were touching something I touched, that we were connected._

 _We've been through things no other friends have experienced. We understand each other better than anyone else in the world._

 _But, all that connects us to someone else. Someone I love, someone who needs me._

 _I know you're coming back to Rosewood, to speak to the court about Charlotte being released. I'm asking for five minutes with you, five minutes to explain. Five minutes that can change the whole world._

 _Spencer, Aria, Hanna, Emily and Rosie, I need you, please._

 _All my love,_

 _Alison._

My fingertips ran over the letter, the letter that I had read countless times. The letter that found itself in my handbag, similar to being an instinct of some sorts, like a secret that needed to be kept. A hateful habit, really, a habit I thought died after a few years of therapy. Apparently, it just needed a trigger.

I must have looked like a maniac, fretting over the letter inside the taxi, for almost forty-five minutes. The driver, to be fair, only gave me a few odd looks. He kept his comments to himself.

The steps took after getting out of the black taxi left my heart hammering. One glance at the clock tower and my urge to run came back. A tight fist with nails that dug into my skin, tamed my body long enough to look at new establishments.

The brew smelled like before, in a way it was comforting, I suppose.

The taxi driver dropped my bags inside the door of the building and tilted his hat. I only grinned in response because it was like a very bad cliché movie.

"Now, there's a face I haven't seen in a long time," a familiar voice, said.

My eyes widened. "Sabrina?"

"Don't look so surprised, sweet cheeks," she said, tying the apron more firmly around her back. She smiled largely. "Still working here, I know, lame, right?"

"Super lame," I agreed, laughing at her screwed up face.

"So, you're back for a visit?" she questioned, completely ignoring the customer in front of her. "Back for good, maybe?"

I shuffled to the side so a line could form. "A swooping visit, hopefully."

"Is that supposed to be a joke?" she asked, eyeing my legs and face.

"No, but if you found it funny, feel free to consider it one." I lulled the crutches to the side. I could see the questions as to how I obtained my injuries in her eyes, making me roll my own. "Don't even ask, it's a boring story."

"I see. Give me a sec?" Before I could respond, she tended to the woman who puffed out an extraordinary amount of air. Finally, her long nails stopped clicking against the counter top.

The shelves along the room was full to the brim with books. No one in the building took a second glance at them. Their snappy exteriors craved their morning coffee, not a book.

I grabbed a book and went to sit down and caught sight of a _very_ familiar face. My face broke out into a wide smile and I was about to call out their name, but they glanced around, looking guarded as they did so, gulped back a few tablets and then sipped on her drink as if nothing had happened.

"Emily?" I whispered, shaking my head, then said louder, "Emily? Is that you?"

The girl in question shoved the rest back into her handbag and abruptly stood up. "Rosie!"

"What are you waiting for?" I awkwardly opened one arm, whilst leaning my body weight on one crutch. "Come here. Bring it in."

She dragged herself off the couch and hugged me, carefully. I found a second later that another body wrapped themselves from behind. I could feel the grin from the person on my shoulder.

"Guess who?"

"Oh, my gosh." Emily let me go, her eyes widened. "Ah! God, I missed you."

"I missed you too," the blonde said, giving her a singular hug. When she took a step back she still wore that massive smile. "Both of you, so much, like you wouldn't believe. I'm beginning to sound obsessed with you, aren't I?"

I returned her grin. "Who wouldn't be?"

"I've missed your conceitedness," Hanna admitted, looking me up and down. Her face twisted into one of concern. "What happened to your leg, your face…your beauty?"

"Oh, get a room!" someone yelled behind us. "Ew."

We turned to face Spencer and Aria entering the Brew. Aria glanced around, sparingly until she said, "We'll need a pretty big room."

Emily took out her phone and then the photo shoot began. Everyone took several pictures, of us acting silly and making faces at the person's phone. After several hugs and kisses of cheeks later, we sat down on the couches and it was like we never even left.

The morning coffee goers watched us with complete and utter disdain. The rest of the girls didn't notice, or chose not to say anything about it. It left me wondering, did they feel the same discomfort as me, allowing people the time to study us? Gazes burning into the back of my head, left the 'fight or flight' urge to rest just beneath the surface.

Sabrina took our orders and brought them over in a flash, leaving the cups and little baking goods on the coffee table.

"You're a total player now, aren't you?" Hanna accused me, taking the piece of paper from beneath my cup.

I laughed. "No, I still think that role has been taken up," I said, giving Emily a pointed look, which she rolled her eyes at, but didn't deny.

"The game can have more than one player." Hanna flattened the page on the table and fluttered her eyelashes.

Spencer cleared her throat, making our heads snap in her direction. A small smile tugged on the corner of her lips, clearly satisfied she could still get our attention, as if she still were the leader.

She plucked her coffee from the table and hummed with pleasure, ensuring to take her time with our eyes on her.

"So, Rosie," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Your last text, said you were your 'optimum self'. Let me remind you that you said this, approximately three hours, ago."

"Your point is?" I prompted her, taking a sip of my hot chocolate.

"My point being, you lied."

I tilted my head to the side. "I'm pretty sure I grew out of that, ah, forced phase, Spence."

"White lies make for a perfect disguise," Aria muttered.

"No seriously," Spencer said, gripping her cup tighter, "what the hell happened to you?"

"It's a boring story," I said, sighing when the response I got was expectant looks. "Fine, let's just say there's no point in humming, _stop, look, listen, live,_ if you're not going to follow the basic instructions."

Emily eyed me weirdly. "What?"

"It was that road safety song she used to sing," Hanna informed her, looking extremely pleased with herself for remembering. "It was an Irish ad, I remember because it was like a bunch of preteen gangsters scaring the crap out of one guy. And their accents, cute if I do say so myself. I don't know how you guys don't remember. She used to hum it all the time."

"You find me cute then?"

Hanna patted my hand. "Well, obviously. Aren't all Irish people magical?"

"Hanna, that's not the point right now," Spencer stressed, running fingers through her hair. "Rosie, you were run over?"

"Let's not talk about me," I dismissed, ignoring her exasperated huff. "So, Hanna, do you really have bedbugs?"

All before that moment, everyone sipped on their drinks and threw knowing 'I missed you' looks toward another. I didn't regret that question, no matter how people stared at both Hanna and myself. In fact, the way Aria slurped her tea and promptly spat it out, made it _so_ worth it, despite the attention.

I kept a straight face, as did Hanna. Silently, Spencer encouraged one of us to explain the weird question by raising one eyebrow.

"No," the blonde eventually answered, grinning at the sighs of relief that they immediately let out. "Claudia just likes to throw accusations around. That's how the fashion world works, people."

"Hanna," Emily trailed off, looking bewildered, "why did she even ask you that?"

Hanna rolled her eyes. "It was a mosquito bite."

"A bite almost as big as the ring, Jordan got for her," I said, watching as an ever so slight flush, cover Hanna's cheeks. An excited grin took over Aria's face, she could hardly hold back her fidgeting hands. "Look at it for yourself."

Aria smiled sweetly at the ring, picking up the hand who wore it and inspected it. "It looked bigger when you posted it."

The conversation switched to Aria's boyfriend, Liam. That's when my phone decided to have some sort of vibrating panic, much like a pager. My lips twitched at the onslaught of messages that popped up onto my device, from several people.

If I had to guess, these people were probably sitting right next to each other and planned the attack out.

I went to the bathroom to answer the messages and maybe ring a few of the people, which I instantly regretted as soon as I got up, from the waggles of eyebrows and suggestive looks from the girls.

When I sat back down, Spencer leaned forward in her seat. "How's your internship?"

"Nope. Never want to hear the word intern again." I closed my eyes and squeezed hard. "I'm a second-year resident. They gave me some time off, since the accident."

"When was that?" Spencer questioned, narrowing eyes. She clarified, "The accident."

"Ugh, like a week, ago." I picked up the hot chocolate, only to have something to do with my hand. The warmth had faded. "Why do I always feel like I'm under an interrogation, with you?" I asked, smiling to diminish the blow of my words. "Why not interrogate the other girls."

Emily stretched out on her chair and pointed toward her face. "She has."

"Emily has been seeing Italian girls and there's no tours going at the Salk Institute," Spencer summed up. She waved toward Hanna. "We all know she's engaged, happily fetching coffees and chewing gum. Aria's freaking out about the court."

Aria rolled her eyes. "Of course, I am. We're talking about A getting out, here."

"I almost forgot about that," I said, pursing my lips.

They all gave me their version of weirded out looks, which I was used too, coming from them.

Like they had planned it, they stood up and left their cups on the table. A bunch of teenagers that should have been at school, giggled at their table, watching the girls closely.

A shiver ran down my spine at the reminder of it all. Charlotte wanted out and the decision wasn't up to us, whether she got out or not. It was the judge's choice. We only had to give our opinions. Who was to say our opinion counted, all that much?

Hanna brought me in for the second hug of the day. "Five A free years, you have to admit, that felt good."

"All the blood and trauma was of my own doing," I said, earning a grin from her as she pulled back.

"I mean," Spencer said, scanning our faces, "a lot has happened, good, bad, ugly but all of it was uncontaminated by A."

Emily crossed her arms. "And now A wants to go home."

"What are we going to do?" Aria widened her eyes, looking to Spencer for answers.

"Well, we drop off our bags and we go meet Ali at four o'clock and listen to what she has to say."

I clasped my hands together. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

A few hours passed and suddenly it was four o'clock. Since earlier that morning, the girls unpacked their luggage at their respective places and visited their parents and presumably their ex's, if their glowing face was anything to go by.

My time was spent checking into the hotel and ensuring everyone back at the hospital via phone that I was perfectly alive and well.

The school day was over so the teenagers had already left the building. In all my nightmares of the place, my 'return' always came with an empty building. It was eerily like the twisted dream and along with the vulnerability of being injured, walking the hallways made me extremely uncomfortable.

Ms. DiLaurentis' door was wide open and inside the classroom, stood five girls in complete and utter silence.

"Ah," I said, entering the room, "I am late. Hi."

"Nothing new. You haven't missed anything," Hanna muttered, sliding a chair out for me to sit in. "We're all here now," she continued, addressing Alison. "So, talk."

"Fine. Charlotte is getting the help she never had when she was little. Five years of treatment, undoing all the damage." Alison smiled wistfully. "I visit her, I spend time with her. She even stayed at my house for a weekend last Christmas."

Hanna made an inhuman sound, what I could only describe as her throat splashing. "They let her out?"

"It was a supervised visit," Alison was quick to explain.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as the familiar dynamic was back again. Alison stood in front of us, perfectly styled and inhumanly perfect with a heart shaped faced, looming dimples and eyes that made horizons at the end of the day, look like the underworld.

The confident, defensive stance of teenager was long gone, replaced by a woman who knew what she wanted and let her passion run havoc.

"So, Charlotte is all better now." Spencer stared the girl dead in the eye. "What does this have to do with us?"

"At the hearing tomorrow, the judge will decide if she should be released," Alison said, slowly. "They want to hear from people who were involved."

"Victim statements," was Spencer's bland confirmation.

"Statements of support," Alison clarified, scanning our faces for a moment before pushing on. "Statements that she isn't a threat to anybody. That you guys are not afraid of her any more." A small frown tugged on her lips as she watched the girls nearly blank faces. "There is no reason to be afraid. You know her. You heard her story. We all went through this together."

The left crutch hung from my arm, felt like it weighed the entire world. There was a strained silence that coincidently made everyone look toward the injured girl.

"Her doctor," I started.

"Dr. Rollins."

"Right." I nodded, as a hand positioned itself on my shoulder. "Other than him, has anyone else treated her, seen her progress, someone that can give confirmation? Is there anyone with doubts about this decision?"

"Dr. Rollins is her primary doctor," she repeated, then held up a hand to stop Hanna's interruption, "there has been consultations through the years. But no one knows the case better than him. Knows _her_ better than him."

Her eyes pleaded with me. "I don't feel comfortable with one person vouching for her."

"Is that your doctor voice?" Hanna sounded amused.

"No, it's my deeply concerned for my future, voice."

"It's a valid point, alternative opinions," Spencer said, curiously tilting her head to the side. "Where is Jason in all this?"

Alison shifted her gaze away from me and to the ground. Almost reluctantly she said, "He doesn't agree with Dr. Rollins and me."

"Wait Spencer," I said, before she could go at that information like a pit bull. "Alison, you said you spent time with her, in her recovery, what about Jason? How much time has he spent with her."

She tapped a finger on her lip in thought. "Not enough to make that kind of decision."

"Guys," Emily said, eyes hardened once everyone looked at her. "Alison, you realise what you're asking us to do. You want us to forgive Charlotte."

"I don't care if you forgive her," Alison's queen bee voice came out in a snap. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. When she opened them, she looked straight at me. "I'm asking you to give me my only chance at a real family."

The resonation with that dream slapped me in the face. This was not lost on anyone in the room and the responses varied from sympathy to rage. Hanna placed her other hand on my shoulder, either in comfort or in an attempt to prep me for a fight in the ring.

In the past, no matter the intention, Alison wielded words as a weapon, manipulating others into her way of thinking, to get what she wanted. It was hard to overlook it, to see the teacher dressed in a pretty dress and eyes that shone with sincerity and a broken dream.

"I do understand that," I said, eventually.

"She knew how that hits too close to home," Spencer said, sharply, now standing by my side. "You can't pull that stuff any more, Alison. Not now."

"No, Rosie," Alison said, eyes only widening slightly at the accusation.

"I understand, that craving," I repeated, ignoring Spencer's comment. "I have no problem with her leaving, if she's better. But, I don't want to rely on the validation of this claim from one person, who may very well be biased. The judge is going to go by our testimony, that's their job. We're biased too. Push it back."

Emily pushed herself off the desk she leaned on and crossed her arms. "You can't be serious, Rose."

"We're back here to voice our opinion, Emily. So yes, I am."

"She almost killed us, multiple times." Her nostrils flared. "We're not even in the A game any more and look at you, you're weak."

"You can tell that to the judge," I said, playing with my fingertips. "Swaying opinions is just…"

Silence came after that, but Emily still fumed. Her breathing became heavier and heavier as it stretched on. The rest of the girls looked extremely uncomfortable.

"You're right." Alison clasped her hands in front of her. The way her cheeks tinged with red as she looked down, made her look genuinely apologetic. "I don't want you to lie. I wanted to show you how it is, from my standpoint, before you give yours."

Spencer scoffed. "Emotionally twisting a dagger into Rosie's heart, in the meantime."

"I'm sorry, I honestly didn't mean to," Alison said, swallowing hard.

"We're not kids any more, Alison," Spencer said, rolling her eyes. "You can't expect us to go along with one of your schemes because you hold something over us. Not any more."

Alison sighed and walked toward the exit, not being glancing over her shoulder, swinging her blonde hair. "You're right. It's not a game. This is reality. All I want is for you to think about what I said."

With that last plea, she left the room, heels clicking against the floor as she did so.

"Well," I said, smiling gratefully as Hanna handed me my crutches. "That went well."

* * *

I wasn't use to this type of gathering of people, any more. Spencer's mom, Veronica Hastings stood in front of a crowd, declaring how she was different from all the other candidates for the election, how she did not garner their attention spit out lies or try to relate to the large quantity of people by ensuring war on the government.

Outside was quiet, other than her voice. The lack of movement, made me shift on the ball of my good foot. I _needed_ to move. I needed to be doing something, anything to stop the thoughts from railing my brain.

It was like my brain was turned on all the time, waiting for an emergency for me to help out on, waiting for me to come up with solutions and think back to the many medical journals that I've read. I was on a holiday I didn't even want, it was supposed to be relaxing, but that seemed impossible.

"Are…" Aria trailed off and studied my face. "Are you okay? You seem a little…"

"Extremely uncomfortable," Hanna supplied, quirking her lips up.

"I'm fine," I dismissed, ignoring how close people were behind me. "I'm not the one that's freaking out, not really."

The blonde eyed me. "Okay, Emily and Aria are freaking out, but I'm not."

"Hey!"

"You are though, Aria," Hanna said, smiling a little.

Aria watched Mrs. Hastings with a new interest, then frowned. "I _so_ am."

"Look, they have the reports." Spencer said, sighing softly. "Okay, they know what Charlotte did to us when she was "A." We don't need to talk about that. All we've to say is that we're not afraid of her. That's all Ali wants. Then we get the hell out of here."

"You make it sound so easy," Aria said, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "Is it that easy for you? You're not afraid? Like Rosie, you said all those things. Is that how you truly feel? How do you, how did you say it and mean it?"

A flash of raven hair caught my eye. Mona made her way through the crowd until she stood near the front. Once she noticed that I looked at her, she waved, with one of those overly chirpy smiles she always wore.

"I know it's not the same, we can't really compare Mona's game to Charlotte's," I said, purposely holding eye contact with Aria. "But, eventually that sick feeling went away when I think and see Mona. Maybe it hasn't happened yet, with Charlotte, but it will."

"Plus, we're standing here, aren't we?" Hanna added, crossing her arms, a defiant glint in her eyes. "We're still here."

"We mightn't be," Emily muttered, rolling her eyes. "If she gets out, we not be for much longer."

Spencer smiled at us, but it didn't reach her eyes, before she went to the front of the crowd and joined Mona for what I'm sure was a pleasant chat.

The dark and gloomy conversation stopped. Spencer dove into her political world with her mother. She seemed determined to do what Alison wished, only to get out of Rosewood faster, regardless of her feelings on the matter. Did that mean she was self-assured enough for Charlotte to get out of the hospital or did she want to get out of Rosewood without much drama?

It was clear as day that Aria was scared, if her words didn't give her away, her eyes certainly did. Just like in the good old days, an uneasiness rested beneath the surface of her eyes.

* * *

Apparently, everyone set up plans and reunions of some sorts with people. The day drained me out of sane thought, so I went back to the hotel to get some much-needed rest and to take the painkillers provided.

The shower in the hotel room was to die for and I couldn't enjoy it because of the cast on my leg. It literally hung out of the shower as I sat in a chair.

The warmth of the room suddenly changed to a biting chill as someone knocked on my door. I hastily pulled on a bathrobe and managed to grasp the crutches and hauled myself to the door.

I waited a beat, to claim even breaths.

The door opened and a blonde had twirled in her spot, ready to leave.

"Alison?"

She froze with her back to me, and slowly turned. "Rosie."

"I would hug you but," I trailed off and shrugged when she noticed my dishevelled state.

"You're naked," she supplied, raising an eyebrow. "Can I come in? I wanted to talk to you about earlier and well, I don't like leaving things unresolved before I go to sleep."

I moved backward and inclined my head, directing her inside. She offered me a small smile and closed the door behind herself.

"Hey, just make yourself comfortable while I get changed," I said, motioning toward the entirety of the room, ignoring my blush.

She watched as I attempted to gather clothes from my suitcase, that refused to be opened because of the damn zipper. After a few seconds of it not budging, she calmly removed my hand from it and opened it with careful ease.

"Take your time." She at the end of the bed and swung her feet back and forth. Just as I was about to go into the bathroom, she rose her gaze from the floor and looked at me. "I missed you, Rosie. I hope you know that."

"I missed you too."

With that, I got changed in the bathroom. It was like the heaviness of my eyes were pulled back like an elastic band, despite being maybe a little lightheaded from the smell of lilacs that permitted the area once Alison entered, somehow, I felt refreshed and wide awake.

It only took a minute or two to dry and throw some clothes on. Once out, I sat at near the headboard of the bed and allowed for my legs to stretch out.

"It's odd, seeing you," Alison said, breaking the silence.

"I know the feeling."

"It shouldn't be," she said, standing up and facing me. She let her eyes trail down my body, then back up. "We've seen each other, it hasn't been a radio silence, unlike the others. Still, you're here and you look like that."

I narrowed my eyes. "Like what?"

A small grin formed on her lips. "Grown up, professional even."

"And here I thought you were going to say, like a truck run me over."

The smile dropped and instantly she was by my side, sitting by me on the bed. I knew she studied me, my face, as I in turn, watched my leg like it would magically repair itself the longer that I looked. Then the studious gaze lingered just below my cheek.

A single finger tilted my chin upwards and made me look at her. The moves were fluid, as if she had done it a thousand times before. Her thumb rested beneath my chin and another finger trailed along the gash that still had pink bandage over it.

"What is the story there?" she asked, quietly.

"It should have been, look both ways before you cross the road," I responded, finding it a little hard to breathe, because of the proximity.

Alison's face turned blank. I turned my head back to stare in front of me, forcing her hand to move out of the way.

"You're a doctor," she murmured, disbelief clear in her tone. "A doctor, Rosie."

"So, you've said."

She huffed, shifting her body so she crossed her legs over one another and so that she could see me as clear as day, without having to change her position, in case I turned away again.

She bit her lower lip. "You haven't changed one bit," she said, rolling her eyes. "So, full of contradictions. Your profession entails patching people up, aren't you supposed to hear all the stories of your patients' trauma? Aren't you constantly reminded of simple safety procedures?"

"I bring the dead back to life."

She tilted her head as if saying 'so?' "And?"

"The normal rules don't apply to me," I continued, hiding a grin at her confusion. "Didn't you hear of my capabilities? I'm a god."

She sat there, and stared and stared and stared. She stared so hard, that I thought that maybe _she_ was the god in the room, that maybe with her thoughts alone, that she could set me on fire.

Then, without warning she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close into one of the warmest hugs that I have ever gotten. I felt how her lips curled upward, as she had them pressed against my shoulder.

"I have missed you," she muttered, silently shaking with laughter. "Despite your extreme contradictions, I have truly missed you. I am sorry."

I rolled my eyes at the turn of conversation. "You were fighting for your sister to come home."

"I know." She pulled back and frowned. "Maybe I went about it the wrong way. It wasn't intentional, to try and sway your opinion, especially like that. I shouldn't have brought it up. It's just, you were sitting there and you understood me, like I understand you."

"No, you didn't, it went better than I thought," I reassured. "You told us about your sister and your want for a family."

"How could I say those things when you're…" An emotion so deep flashed for only a second across her face, only to hide away. "At least I see her and Jason, sometimes."

"Comparing situations is never a good idea," I said, closing my eyes. "Dismissing your own feelings based on someone else having it worse off? No. Let yourself feel it. Otherwise, one day you'll find yourself living through the motions. Don't let your life go by like that."

She grasped my hands in hers and looked at me like I had all the answers in the world. "How do you do it? Accept it?"

"You're forgetting, Ali, that I've grown up with. I had no choice but to grow accustomed to it," I said, smiling wryly at her. "Orphans, like me, adapt to it. We make our own family. I haven't gotten there yet, but who knows?"

"You have me."

I smiled. "I know."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"Welcome back to Rosewood," she said, flashing me a smile. "I hope you enjoy your stay. You never know, maybe you'll want to stay here."


End file.
